


Reflection of a Trickster

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Choking, Dubious Consent/Dub-con, Humiliation, Implied self hatred, M/M, Other, References of Self Harm, Selfcest- Freeform, honestly i have no good explanations, implied suicide ideation, just. just take it., technically Hurt/Comfort angst but who's keeping track
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:25:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He wakes up alone in Mementos, unable to access his personas. His reflection has a lot to say about him.





	Reflection of a Trickster

**Author's Note:**

> This is the worst thing I have ever written in my entire life. Also, I've never written porn before. Why did I do this. (Thanks for proofreading this sin, RandomMunchkin.)

Awareness came to him like a sinking freight train, clarity slipping between the cracks and drowning him in sensations. There was pressure against his neck, the feeling of something digging in with hard, rough presses, causing Akira to let out a choked yell as his arms came up to shove at the force. His fingers met with thick cotton sleeves and leather gloves; he forced them away from his throat as he struggled to open his eyes.

His eyes slowly fluttered open to more darkness, the only light provided to him being the faint glow of light panels built into the walls. "This is... Mementos...?" He quietly whispered to himself, glancing around to try and locate his mysterious assailant. The faint red hue to everything made it hard to distinguish anything besides shadows from their surroundings, but for once, it seemed the empty halls were completely free of shadows... as well as any other people.

He let out a quiet hiss of pain as he rubbed at his throat, realizing belatedly that his hands were bare of the gloves he always wore in the Metaverse. His attire was still the same as his school outfit, albeit slightly disheveled from the panic he had experienced after coming to his senses.

"How did I even..." He muttered, blinking in confusion as he began to walk anyways, slowly progressing down through the tunnels of Mementos. He needed to find an exit: some way back to the surface so he could leave. After all, just because he couldn't see any shadows didn't mean there wasn’t any- running into a fight when he was alone and defenseless like this was an admittedly unsettling thought.

He weakly pushed himself away from the wall he had just realized he was leaning against, stumbling over onto the train tracks that he would normally be driving down by now in the safe confines of Morgana's van form. He wandered for what felt like hours through the endless hallways, coming to dead end after dead end as he tried to find some sort of exit.

As he walked, a faint sound of rattling chains began to echo through the halls however his stomach dropped as he suddenly realized its source. He had never seen the shadow in person, yet he had constantly been warned of its presence. The Reaper, an intensely powerful shadow. Able to withstand any attack you threw at it. Able to kill Persona users in a single movement. Hands shaking, he took a hesitant step back, before turning on one heel and bolting from the general direction of the noise.

Everything seemed to come alive as he rushed through the maze of tunnels, the sounds of nonexistent trains whirling past as he ran from corridor to corridor. The red glow of Mementos arose as he ran further and further- seeping deeply into his vision. Halls began to blur together as he lost all sense of direction. He focused more on avoiding the shadow, which he only vaguely knew of, than actually trying to find a way out anymore.

By the time he realized the sounds of chains had been getting louder, it was too late. He turned a corner only to come face to face with a terrifying being. A large, torn trenchcoat rested around its vaguely-humanoid body, with chains floating loosely around its form and rattling with every move it made. Following upwards was a burlap sack stitched into the shape of a head, making it seem even more ghastly. In its arms it wielded a dual set of impossibly long revolvers. It shuffled as it saw Akira, raising one arm into the air and casting a spell that caused a large explosion to erupt at his feet.

He let out a choked scream as his back hit the wall, a loud crack sounding out with the impact. He clutched at the edges of his consciousness, trying to force out Arsène, Jack Frost, Oberon, any of his personas that could potentially answer to his pleas. Reaper floated in front of him, chains rattling as it raised its gun again in preparation for another attack. Akira yelled, instincts kicking in just quick enough to get him out of the way of a spike of ice that had erected itself right where he once stood.

 _Damn it, why aren't any of them answering?_ He thought frantically, breaking into a run as he dodged and ducked under spells being hurtled his way. His entire body throbbed with pain, each step sending a cascade of sparks through his body; he pressed on, already knowing any faltering could result in his death. His breathing became ragged, his movements losing their fluidity as the attacks never seemed to reach their end. He nearly tripped as his ears suddenly picked up on a strange sound behind him. Laughter.

"You look like you're having trouble there," a voice rang out, and Akira's heart nearly stopped as he instantly recognized it. It was his own voice: twisted into a cocky and cruel tone. He stumbled as he tried to whirl around to face the source of the voice. His eyes widened as they landed upon a near perfect replica of himself, dressed neatly in his Metaverse outfit and a bright, amused grin.

"W-wh, you're-" Akira began, hands shaking slightly as he took a step back from his counterpart. They laughed, before pulling at their mask, summoning Arsene to their side. With a swift movement, they pivoted on one heel to face Reaper, an arm outreached in its direction. Arsene seemed to get the hint, casting a spell that swooped up from the ground, clamping around Reaper's form. It recoiled, and they shouted something unintelligible to it in an angry tone.

The powerful shadow shifted uneasily, chains rattling, as they repeated the statement. Akira strained his ears, trying to understand it, it escaping his mind like mental static was blocking it out. After a long moment of silence, Reaper slowly turned away, beginning to float back as if nothing had happened. He turned towards his masked counterpart in confusion and awe, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. They turned to face him again, a lingering sense of rage hiding behind their eyes and composed smile, and he resisted the urge to shudder and flinch back.

"Trickster," they stated it as if it was a greeting, eyes flashing as their grin widened marginally. He frowned slightly, eyes slowly scanning over their frame. Everything seemed to match his appearance perfectly, but they seemed to have an air of power and confidence to them that make them feel more imposing than they were. The silence dragged on...  Akira quickly realized it was an expectant silence, his strange counterpart waiting for a response.

"...Joker...?" He answered hesitantly, uncertain as to whether or not it was the right answer. They snorted, posture losing its professional air as they tapped their head with a gloved finger.

"Well, you're not _entirely_ wrong, I'll give you that." They slid a hand across their face, their mask smoothly disappearing from it. It was vaguely unnerving to see them without the barrier of a mask to distinguish them from his own appearance; seeing a set of golden irises staring back at him only made the experience more unsettling. "Call me Joker, if that makes you feel any more comfortable. It's not like it matters, anyway."

Joker's hand trailed up to their hair, fingers running through the mess of curls that the two of them shared. Akira watched their movements, transfixed, and they glanced back at him with a blank, uninterested glance. "Ah, right. I almost forgot why I went through all this trouble to talk to you." Their hand fell to their side as they began casually approaching Akira, each footstep echoing slightly in the empty tunnel. They strolled up to face him directly, boots giving them a large enough height advantage that Akira had to tilt his head slightly to meet their eyes.

"So... what the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" Joker scowled at him, angrily grabbing at the lapels of his jacket so all Akira could see was Joker's glare. An enraged golden stare boring deep into his soul. He found himself at a loss for words; his eyes wide like he had accidentally stared at the face of an angel, spurning the holy wrath of a being beyond comprehension.

"Wha.. what?" He breathed, watching Joker's eyes narrow and eyebrows furrow in response in the split second before he was suddenly hit with an explosion of pain; Joker had roughly slapped him across the face with his free hand. He reeled back, only barely being caught by Joker's firm grasp on his jacket. He spit out a mouthful of saliva and blood, his mouth already starting to taste strongly of copper.

"You know exactly what I mean. How do you expect to be a leader when you can't accomplish anything without my assistance?" Joker spoke like their mouth was full of venom, words dripping with malice and the slightest amount of control stopping them from continuing to attack their counterpart. "You call yourself a leader, but when have you ever made a single decision without my blessing to back you up? When have you managed to stand up for yourself without having to rely on me?!"

Akira flinched as their voice raised to a yell, his mouth agape in silent horror as Joker grew more and more angry. "P-please-" He began, Joker harshly cutting him off with a glare.

"Please what? Stop saying the truth? You know just as well as I do that everything I'm saying is right!" Joker took another step forward, roughly shoving Akira against the nearest wall. "You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that? You steal the hearts of those who abuse their power for their own gain, but how is this anything different? How is using the power of the Trickster to gain the trust and affection of others any different than a man abusing his title to gain affection?" They growled, eyes flashing as he was pressed against the hard surface, frozen in terror and guilt.

Akira raised a hand weakly to Joker's chest, not sure if he was trying to push them away or not. "I-I'm not a hypocrite, I. I'm doing this for the greater good." He tried to get out, the words sounding cheap and fake even to him. Joker scoffed, hand slipping up from his jacket to gently wrap around Akira's throat. They slowly started to apply pressure, cutting off his air supply as they continued to speak.

"The greater good, huh? What part of lying to your friends is for the greater good? Do you really think they'll think you're better than them when they find out you've been doing this all along just so you can get attention?" Joker mocked, ignoring his struggling as he started to flail his arms, desperately trying to push them away from him. Akira's vision was starting to go spotty, his mind screaming for any oxygen it could possibly manage, and he let out a choked groan as he tugged at Joker's arm to try and loosen their grip on his throat.

Akira's vision blurred with tears that freely flowing down his face; his mind started to blank out and an immense tiredness began to sink into his body as the lack of oxygen dragged him towards unconsciousness. Joker stared coldly at him while his eyes began to fall shut. Sighing,  he let go of Akira completely and allowed him collapse to the ground, gasping for air. They seemed almost disappointed in him, however with his mind and vision swimming, he could barely begin to think about what they meant by their disapproving gaze.

"...You're lucky I can't kill you without ensuring my own death as well." Joker muttered quietly, crouching down to watch Akira struggle to gain his bearings. He grasped at his throat to rub at the quickly developing bruises and take unhealthily fast breaths to try and take in as much air as possible.

Akira slowly began to push himself into a sitting position, his entire body throbbing with pain and conflicting feelings. His head buzzed with a delirious lightheadedness and he blearily blinked. He rubbed the tears out of his eyes and took his glasses off to clean them so he could finally see Joker clearly again. "...What are you... getting out of this?" He quietly asked, glancing expectantly at Joker. They sighed quietly, nudging him over so they could sit down properly.

"As much as I am you, I am also not you. I share the feelings you do towards things, retain the same memories you do, but I am not you. You have a very... interesting way of dealing with your issues." Joker spoke calmly, gold eyes meeting his own grey ones and metaphorically boring into his soul again. Even though the gaze was passive, Akira flinched, averting his eyes to stare at the train tracks guiltily.

"You promised you'd stop doing this to yourself." Joker stated, tone calm but muttered like an accusation as they pulled up their sleeve, showing off the colourful array of bruises and scratches that he knew was reflected onto his own arms. They paused, before pulling their sleeve back down and turning to face Akira properly. "Why do you want punishment so badly?"

Akira blinked, looking back at them with sadness in his eyes as he tried to hold back another wave of tears. "I... I really don't deserve to be their leader. All of them have- they have good reasons for being heroes. For being Phantom Thieves. I'm just a troublemaker with an assault record. I don't deserve their love." He said, fingers digging into one of his forearms as he spoke. Joker frowned at this, grabbing him by the wrist.

"Stop doing that," They replied gently, gazing into Akira's eyes with a softness that he couldn't really understand. "You... really don't think you deserve love?" They asked, grip tightening slightly around his wrist. He slowly nodded, and Joker paused, mentally processing everything before a soft and serene smile spread across their face.

"Well, I suppose there's one way to punish you for thinking like that." With those words, they quickly adjusted their position before Akira could realize what they were intending to do, quickly ending up on top of Akira, straddling him and gently pressing his back against the ground. Akira let out a startled gasp, reaching up to try and shove them off, but they simply grabbed their wrist and shoved their hand back down against the ground.

"G-get off me!" Akira yelped, his voice coming out strained as his face flushed a bright, beautiful red. Joker simply laughed, lowering themselves to press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

"I'm afraid I can't do that until you've gotten your punishment, haha." They replied, beaming as he stammered, eyes looking them up and down in shock. Joker rolled their eyes at the reaction, before leaning down again, this time much slower, and gently kissing him on the lips. Akira fell silent, eyes wide with shock and his mind flying at a million miles an hour, before he slowly, closed his eyes and began kissing his other self back.

It was the sort of thing that should have repulsed Akira- kissing an identical double of himself. Especially when said double had nearly killed him only minutes ago, but for some reason, the idea of just giving into temptation without facing judgement for it was an intoxicating concept. He pressed himself even closer to Joker, parting his lips to allow the phantom thief to slip his tongue into his mouth.

As they continued to kiss, Joker's free hand slid down his torso, unbuttoning his blazer and carelessly pushing it aside so they could slip their hand under his shirt. Akira gasped, arching into their touch as the rough texture of their glove caressed his sides, feeling along every dip and curve with an expert hand. Their hand slid up his chest, pushing his shirt up in the process, and they shifted around a bit, adjusting their position so they could lean down and start pressing soft kisses to Akira's throat and chest.

"A-ah, Joker, I-" Akira stumbled over his words, moaning openly as they kissed their way down his body, kissing every inch of exposed skin they could get their hands on. Akira's jacket was quickly thrown to the side, his suspenders shoved off his shoulders, and his shirt pushed up as far as it could go to make room for Joker's suggestive exploration of his skin.

Joker hummed softly as they reached the curve of his hips, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin until he reached the waistband of Akira's pants. They smiled cockily as they noticed the tent to his pants, and on impulse, they pressed a kiss against his erection through the fabric. Akira reacted instantly, jerking upwards and nearly hitting Joker as a long series of arguments, defenses, and whatever came to mind started falling out of his mouth. Joker snorted, silencing him by pressing his palm roughly against his bulge and gently squeezing.

"Calm down. I know what I'm doing." Joker reassured him, smirking slightly at the defensive look still lingering in his eyes. They calmly undid the button to his pants, pulling the zipper down and tugging the pants down a little so they could easily pull out Akira's hard cock. Akira's head fell back and he let out a quiet moan as he felt them gently touch his dick, stroking his shaft up and down a couple times before abruptly stopping and pulling back.

Akira sat up a little, forcing his eyes back open again as he blinked at Joker in confusion. "Why did you stop?" He asked, watching Joker play with their gloves for a second before they vanished much in the same manner that their mask had.

"Just wanted to stop these from getting in the way." Joker replied smoothly, before wrapping their bare fingers around Akira's shaft again and giggling slightly when he bucked into their hand. They gave the shaft a few experimental strokes before falling into a steady rhythm, coordinating their actions based on how much of a reaction it got out of the human.

Akira was nearly lost in the sensations of pleasure, moaning and gasping shamelessly until Joker abruptly stopped, pulling their hand away from his dick, only for him to let out a yell as his cock was suddenly enveloped in a warm and _wet_ sensation as Joker took him into his mouth. "J-Joker! Y-you- ah, you're-" He moaned, unable to get his sentence out without breaking up, and Joker giggled again, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine.

Their tongue danced in elaborate patterns across his cock as they bobbed their head, carefully balancing their different tasks mentally in their mind. They reached down and grasped at his dick again, stroking the part of his cock that they couldn't comfortably fit in their mouth, and Akira's mind blanked, completely lost in the pleasure. His orgasm was close on the horizon, and Joker seemed aware of it, if the way they started putting more effort into getting him off had anything to say about it.

"J-Joker, I'm- gonna, mmhh, fuck I'm gonna-" Akira rambled, almost completely incoherent as he was pushed towards the breaking point, and Joker smiled slightly, starting to hum around his dick. This proved to be the thing that pushed him over the edge, Akira yelling Joker's name as he experienced the strongest orgasm he had felt in his lifetime. Joker milked out his orgasm, refusing to stop until Akira was flustered and completely drained. They pulled off of Akira's cock, a bit of excess cum dripping down their chin from their flushed lips. They looked at him with wide, blown pupils, and smiled softly.

"Would you say that was a suitable punishment?" They joked, wiping away the mess on their face with their sleeve. Akira nodded, still dazed from his orgasm, and slowly got his clothes back together, looking somewhat back to normal. He struggled to stay awake; his eyelids drooped as he pulled his jacket back on and leaned against the wall. _Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt..._ He glanced over at Joker, and they nodded in confirmation at the silent question.

"Get some rest. I'll make sure nobody hurts you." They murmured, placing a bare hand on his shoulder. Akira nodded again, eyes already falling shut, and he slowly began to fall into a deep slumber. Hours later, he would awaken in his own room, brushing the experience off as a dream that was the products of stress and teenaged hormones, but for now, just letting things happen as they were seemed like a fantastic idea.

_"Sweet dreams, Trickster."_


End file.
